Enslaving the Demons pt3

Her Holy Royal Empress Elizabeth resides calmly within her tent decorated with the skulls and other bits of battle trophies secured from her campaign in retaking the southern capital. While she's still forced into having her primary camp set in the forest it hasn't stopped her forces from securing ground all around taking orcish camps and former elven towns as well. As she studies a map before her with her closest generals, the flap of her tent is brought aside as an elderly man wearing a fresh scar over his left eye peers inside.

“A visitor for you, your highness, an emissary from the elven remnants.” He proclaims as Elizabeth looks to the others and nods dismissing them all.

“Send them in.” She orders as she goes back to her seat in behind the long table.

Moments after the generals have left, a timid elf with pale green hair wearing the tattered remains of her uniform enters standing before the table. Before saying anything, the elf shows her understanding of her place as she lowers to her knees bowing her head.

“Hail her highness, the ever exalted and incredibly beautiful-”

“That's enough.” Elizabeth interrupts feeling bored already with this elf's attempt at flattery. “If you hadn't noticed I'm leading a counter offensive. I've no time for your suck up statements.”

“A-apologies, your highness.” She says starting to come back up to her feet only for Elizabeth to stop her with a gesture from her hand.

“I never said you could stand.” She says glaring the elf back down to her knees. The elf swallows lowering herself back down as Elizabeth relaxes more into her chair. “Tell me what you're here for.”

“My people, the elven remnants, wish to make a request.”

“Oh?” Elizabeth queries arching up her left brow curiously.

“We wish to join your ranks, fight those who once held us in captivity. Our numbers have dwindled greatly since the orcish invasion right to the point where we wouldn't be a match for even a garrison of that army. So we wish to join alongside you. Your highness.”

The elf looks back up at Elizabeth best she can from her lowered state across the table. Her Royal Empress says nothing at first looking as though she's merely mulling the idea over in her mind. After a few moments, she comes up slowly from her chair making her way over to a set of weapons taken from recent battles.

“What were you prior to this conflict, elf?”

The question catches the elf off guard as she has to really think about it. She's been enslaved for so long that at first it doesn't quite come to her. She looks down at her wrists still red lined from the shackles and then answers.

“Scout captain, your Highness.”

“I see. Are you also the highest ranking official left?”

The elf swallows having a growing fear of uncertainty in where this line of questioning is going. Especially as she notices Elizabeth picking up a dagger.

“Of...those that have gathered here. We still feel there are others...who retreated into the southern capital and are being held there. As well as those at remaining orcish camps, your Highness.”

Elizabeth turns holding the dagger with a loose grip as though trying not to hide any part of it from her guest.

“Does this blade look familiar to you, former scout captain elf?”

The elf glances at it from her position and does her best to look it over. It does seem familiar, but not something she had held before. However, with the realization of what that blade means it dawns on the elf what's about to happen and she swallows nodding her head trying to answer verbally but her rapidly dried mouth prevents it.

“Do you know why it's familiar to you?”

The elf knows she can't get away with a simple head nod here, though even if it were just a “yes” or “no” question she would have to make the attempt in being verbal this time around anyway. Therefore, with another swallow she speaks with a slightly cracked voice.

“It...was constructed by elven slaves, your Highness.”

“Mmhm.” Elizabeth nods stabbing the dagger hard into the table directly in front of the elf making her look more directly at it. “Not just regular elven craftsman, but elven slaves? How can you tell? Aside from it looking so new.”

“There isn't a stamp, your Highness.” The elf answers swiftly this time around watching Elizabeth sit back down putting the pieces together.

“There isn't an elven stamp on this elven blade. The elven stamp is a symbol of the pride that went into its making. This dagger was crafted without pride. Meaning it was crafted out of force. Hence your statement that it was crafted by elven slaves.”

The elf before her remains silent letting Elizabeth continue.

“Do you know where this dagger was found? It was lodged in the neck of one of my soldiers. An elven blade crafted by an elven slave killed one of my-”

“We were forced!” The elf proclaims loudly, her eyes brimmed with tears as she holds herself a moment and quickly lowers her head to the side as Elizabeth just continues as though nothing had happened there.

“When you were enslaved, you made weapons for the enemies of the people you would eventually beg assistance from. Tell me why I shouldn't lodge this dagger into your neck and send that back as my response to your people?”

The elf knows there isn't much she can say if Elizabeth won't accept the “They were forced” idea. Therefore, the elf starts from the beginning to maybe have the Empress see why they were forced and hope that works instead.

“When we were captured, they brought us to what had been our forge up to that point. They lined us up and every third of us was told to step forward two paces. Every second of us was told to step forward a single pace.” The elf pauses again swallowing as a few tears come down her cheeks. “Those first that were chosen were told to turn around and by any means necessary...kill those that had stepped forward. Many were strangled, some disemboweled, necks were cracked, there was even some laughter from the murderers. They wanted to please their new masters. My sister was of the latter group. I had to stand by and watch as another took a rock and caved in her head. My sister stared back at me the entire time, frightened and wondering why I wasn't helping her.” The elf looks up at Elizabeth with a steely eyed expression giving her the honest truth. “I proudly made the weapons that would kill your people hoping that when it came time for you to enter the forge you would slaughter me.”

She looks down and sighs examining her wrists once more.

“The shackles and collars weren't just there to keep us in chains, they kept us from slitting our wrists or our necks with the weapons we were crafting. We were forced to live with what we had done or what we had seen. Working alongside those who sought to bring pleasure to our masters. A few of us soon learned to hate one another and when you came and we saw our own forms of salvation...I was happy. I personally released those who were loyal to our masters to persuade you to kill us all indiscriminately. We were just animals, our minds all shattered. But you didn't. You brought those of us who didn't fight here. For what reason, none of us know. But it gave us time to talk. Time to calm down. Time to think.”

“To want revenge?” Elizabeth asks as the elf nods. “How then did you become their emissary? It couldn't have been your ranking. All ranks were stripped away. Don't tell me you managed to keep that much stability in your minds to still view one another with such titles.”

The elf shakes her head. “It's true that prior to the invasion that I held the highest rank of all those brought here, but that's not why I was chosen. In all honesty, no one wished to come and see you.”

“Why?”

The elf just looks at the dagger and then back at Elizabeth as if trying to bring up the threat from earlier, about having the dagger thrust into her neck. The Empress, coming to this realization, looks at the elf a little surprised.

“By the sounds of it you'd have wanted the dagger inside of you.”

“To be honest, your Highness, had that been the end of the road when we came here, to be executed as members of the enemy, I would've accepted it. But talking with those that remained of my people here...as I said, it's calmed me. But I couldn't hide the truth from you, which is why I requested to speak on our behalf. I knew most of the others would be so frightened that by now they'd be kissing your feet begging for any position in your army. But I've seen death and I've lived it. My live has no bearing to me anymore, so I give it to the others. My one fear in this was to never have you hear us out. To not understand what we could all offer you.”

Elizabeth stares back at the elf considering her words once more and slowly starts nodding after a bit of contemplation.

“Tell me, elf,” She begins. “What is your name?”

“Glynnii, your Highness.”

Her royal Empress Elizabeth steps out from her tent followed by the freshly cleaned Glynnii dressed with a light metal chestplate overtop of a blue uniform designed like those of Elizabeth's officers. In the time after their meeting the young elf had become the Empress' steward following her everywhere. It had gotten to the point where soldiers couldn't really see their Empress as someone alone anymore.

“I can't believe they've actually requested an audience.”

Elizabeth mutters as Glynnii once more checks over the notice that had been sent into their camp via arrow. It was honestly more surprising that an orc could get so close to this camp as to send out this arrow. At least that was the common belief here at the camp, Glynnii had other thoughts about it. Thoughts that a fellow elf could only have been able to navigate the forest so well to sneak up this close.

“This is the intended location.” One of the generals states pointing it out on a map as both Elizabeth and Glynnii approach. They aren't the only three around the map as a scout stands off to the side soon addressed by the Empress herself.

“How is it there?”

“Open, your Highness, trees all around but it's a vast field. If you were to meet with their Chieftain in the centre there would be no way for either sides archers to remain hidden and useful from the forest.”

Elizabeth nods and turns sharply toward her steward who instinctively bows her head.

“Fetch my steed.”

“Yes, your Highness.”

Glynnii bows and rushes off to the stables to collect Contessa as the present general lets out a gruffled noise.

“Surely you aren't serious about this meeting.”

“I am, general, though I've no intention of begging for this war to end. Quite frankly, I don't care what this hellish creature has to say.”

She says as she begins making her way through the camp forcing the general to follow after her.

“At least allow me to establish a unit to go with you. We both know it's entirely what he plans on doing.”

“I understand your concern, general, but I'm going with a unit I've already set up.”

Elizabeth retorts stopping by a steel cage looking inside at the frightened white haired woman shackled inside.

“It's certainly been long enough, I feel.” Elizabeth says with a grin as the captive woman huddles as far from her as she can inside her cage.

--

Sometime later, Elizabeth sits on her steed Contessa's back holding onto the reins in one hand and the handle of a chain in another connected to the shackles around the white haired woman's wrists. Alongside her is Glynnii who's been gifted a short sword for this occasion keeping a hand over the hilt of it. She looks around wondering from where the Chieftain will be coming and then they hear the horns coming from their left. Elizabeth kicks her heels into the hips of Contessa making her turn as she yanks the chain forcing the woman behind her to reposition herself as well. Glynnii watches this but remains silent as she takes a deep breath awaiting the arrival of the orcs.

The first brought out are a series of siege walls wheeled out by orcs. Though not just any walls as these ones have nude women, their arms and legs cleanly cut off with bellies full of orcish babies ready to be brought out. It's all elves and humans moaning either blindfolded or blinded by other means. Seeing this, Glynnii swallows tightening her hold of her sword but hears a scoff from her Empress.

“I can't believe you're buying into this, Glynnii.”

She says unimpressed with her elf and those being brought out several yards away from them. Following them are a series of goblins riding the backs of more enslaved humans and elves having dressed them up like horses and like those on the boards, their arms have also been deemed useless and removed. Seeing them line up in what they would call a formation, Elizabeth just chuckles under her breath.

“Such boastful antics for a meeting. Clearly someone's afraid they're losing this war.”

“They seem rather prideful, your highness.” Glynnii responds.

“They're trying to prove their might over those that have fought them before. Trust me, this isn't the last display of slave ownership we'll be seeing.”

The next display certainly sends shivers running down Glynnii's spine, even despite what she's just been told. Painted orcs wielding axes come screaming out from the forest dressed with decorative skulls brandishing weapons that Glynnii had certainly not made for them. Though, in a way, she fears that her fellow elves had. The handles of these axes were spinal cords with broken ribs attached at the top to take form of the heads. They screaming has Glynnii taking a step back until Elizabeth stops her.

“You retreat now I'll consider you among them. You...and all elves I ever come across.”

Glynnii swallows and stands back beside her Empress as a final horn bellows from the forest silencing those out on the field. Even the trophied slaves fall silent as a large structure is brought out ranging twenty feet squared of heavy logs as the base, all of it carried purposely by former members of the Empress' own army. Officers and soldiers alike. Just like with the elves at the forge, ranks were no longer a distinction between these suffering individuals who cry as they're whipped by their new masters following alongside. Soon, Elizabeth's eyes float upward to the throne resting atop of the structure where the Chieftain resides dressed in all his splendor looking down at the Empress who would dare defy his grip of this nation. Soon, the slaves are brought to a halt and ordered into silence allowing their Master above all to have only his voice echo this field. He doesn't start with a speech though, as when he stands he hurtles out a set of skulls toward Elizabeth who lets them roll to a halt in front of her. The flesh long since gone from these bones, Elizabeth at least still recognizes the crowns that they wear.

“Sister. It's good to see you again. Did it hurt?”

She asks surprisingly Glynnii as she smiles down at the skulls of her sister and brother in law. The Chieftain, assuming as he can't hear Elizabeth that she must be grief stricken, bellows out at her. His words being partially muddled by the massive incisors poking up from his jaw.

“Empress of the humans, your mind will soon be broken. You will be brought to me, your jaw opened, and you will learn to accept the mighty thrusts of my cock.”

Elizabeth sighs hearing all this as she yanks the chain bringing her captive forward while the Chieftain continues.

“You will breed my children and then your arms and your legs will be torn off! You eyes plucked out! Your tongue ripped from your mouth to make more room! When you are nothing but a shell you will be executed and then revived by necromancers only to then be embedded in the wall as a trophy where you will spend the rest of eternity only hearing the taunting laughs of those around you!”

The Chieftain then gives her an example of this and starts laughing out loud soon joined by those he's brought in service with him, even including a few of the slaves too frightened not to. The orcs don't make any other moves as Glynnii gets a sense of why.

“I...I think they're awaiting your rebuttal, your highness.”

“I'm working on it.” Elizabeth says unshackling the white haired woman shoving her to the ground. “Rebuttal for me, my archangel.”

The white haired woman, tears in her eyes, looks back at Elizabeth a moment then turns to the Chieftain and his gathered army slowly getting to her feet.

--

By dusk the Empress had returned still riding atop of Contessa with Glynnii following alongside her and the chained woman drenched in blood with a fearful look on her face brought up behind them. Not too much further are a set of former slaves leading their orcish captives forward. Upon returning to the general she had met with previously, she steps off her steed and looks to Glynnii.

“Return Contessa back to her stall and be sure to feed and wash her.”

“Yes, your Highness.” Glynnii responds with a bow taking Contessa's reins leading her from the Empress who next gives the woman to the general.

“Have this washed and returned back into its cell.”

“At once, your Highness.” The general takes the chain giving it a pull having the woman walk forward following it shivering while Elizabeth looks next to her returning soldiers.

“Line the prisoners up.”

The Empress orders taking a few steps away as her soldier beat their beast folk prisoners into a straight line.

“Every third one of you...step forward two paces. Every second one of you, step forward one.”

There's a few that hesitate knowing what this means but their hesitance means a beating from their captors as they're shoved forward. Hearing all of this and clearly recognizing it as well, Glynnii watches over making sure she keep the brush going along Contessa's thighs.

“Those of the former group, turn to face those of the latter.” Elizabeth instructs as the orcs now do as they're told. “Former group, by whatever means necessary...kill those of the latter.”

The howls and blood swiftly spill as orc lives are swiftly brought to an end by their own kind. The back row having to bear witness to all of this as those that hesitate are instead killed instantly by the very soldiers they were whipping just hours before. During this massacre, Elizabeth looks over and sees Glynnii watching. Once spotted, the elf swiftly lowers her head and resumes cleaning Contessa as soon the noises die down allowing the Empress' voice to be followed once more.

“Commander, you and your men kill the remainder of our prisoners.”

The commander appears more than happy to oblige in this as he leads the assault against the captive orcs massacring the entirety of them leaving Elizabeth to return just outside her tent. As the screams continue, Elizabeth brings out the severed head of the Chieftain from her cloak, a look of fear etched as the last emotion he ever felt in his life. She sighs gripping it by the tusk.

“Not even worth keeping as a trophy.”

She says tossing the severed head into a nearby fire letting it burn out as she enters back into her tent.